there's nothing to sphere except sphere itself

please

money beyond ypur wildist dreams

one hundred and seventy dollars

My mom likes to tell me about how when I was a little kid riding public transport with her I'd always smile and giggle and chat with weird old ladies who smelled like cat pee and homeless folks and strangers dressed in bizarre outfits but any time a tidy and respectable businessman in a suit and tie waved at me I'd immediately clam up, and she takes a great deal of pride in my supposed inherentability to clock personalities but the truth is I do vaguely remember those bus rides, and it was never about the clothes or the hair or the smell, but more because everyone "strange" asked interesting questions and listened to what I had to say and seemed to think about what I said while the neat and tidy and rigid folks only ever acted like they were going through the motions, which was boring as hell and also pretty annoying

hi it's your boss. yeah we found your blog. we are getting you put down.

they're selling anti-ai slogans on sweatshop-produced t-shirts. i don't need to write the poem for you to get it do i

i wish shapes were like bugs and you could just get like a circle infestation in your house or something. fuck ive got bed triangles fuuuck. this could solve everything

i wish shapes were like bugs and you could just get like a circle infestation in your house or something. fuck ive got bed triangles fuuuck. this could solve everything

i wish shapes were like bugs and you could just get like a circle infestation in your house or something. fuck ive got bed triangles fuuuck. this could solve everything